Jesus Christ is the original astrophysicist. Holy Scripture declares that through his spoken word all matter came into existence, John 1;3; Colossians 1: 15; Hebrews 1:2. According to modern science the universe is about 14.3 billion years old, give or take a few hundred million. Astrophysics has been able to determine this by measuring the time it has taken light from planets, stars, and other galaxies to reach their recording equipment here on earth.
Light travels at 126,000 miles per second. The light from the moon takes a couple of seconds to reach us. Our distance from the sun is 92.96 million miles, so the light from the sun takes much longer, about seven minutes. Our closest star is Alpha Centauri, is 4.3 light years away. That is approximately 17 trillion miles away The light from the deepest ends of our universe took close to 14 billion years to reach earth.
Now, that is just enough math to either excite a person or drive them nuts. I am one of the excited ones. I am no mathematician, not by a long shot. I passed algebra with a D, and that was a gift. The reason for my excitement is due to my Creator. He is the source of, The Big Bang, or Intelligent Design, which ever you choose.
The Christmas narrative gives us wonderful images of the Magi coming from the east. Wise men who were led by a celestial phenomenon to find the Christ. We used to believe that they were led by a star, Today there is some very credible thought that it was a comet*. It doesn't really matter to me. What matters is the absolute perfection of God's timing. The creation process put into motion the origin and expansion of the universe. Included in that plan and process is the knowledge that Christ would be visited by the Magi, guided by the very astronomical bodies He created. WOW.
People of faith find this awesome and beyond total understanding. I stand amazed that God brought this into existence for the blessings and benefit of mankind.
* The Christ Comet by Colin R. Nicholl
www.teddgalloway.com
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Monday, December 21, 2015
Pondering Christmas
Pondering Christmas - According to several dictionaries, pondering, is deliberate contemplation on a specific subject. It is a commitment to open up ones mind and heart in trying to understand the consequences that might come to light. According to Luke's Gospel narrative of the birth of Jesus Christ, Mary ponders the messages to her.
Gabriel appears to Mary and announces to her that she will be with child and the impregnating power and source will be God. She will remain a virgin and still be pregnant and bring forth a child who will be the Son of God. Luke tells us that, "Mary pondered all this in her heart." She must have been a unique and devout young lady. Gabriel called her, "Highly Favored One." How does a very young woman ponder such incredible information?
The second time we find Mary pondering the incarnation is when the shepherds came from the fields and told Mary and Joseph what they witnessed. Now, nine months after Gabriel's first visit Mary is in deep thought about her child. Does Mary have any real understanding of the implications of bringing forth the Christ of God? Would she know of the Old Testament psalm that teaches that her Son is the Creative power that filled the universe?
We will probably never know what filled Mary's heart in that period of time. But, let's try placing our mind and heart in the position of pondering Christmas as if it never took place. I challenge those who read these words to find time in the busy days ahead and "ponder" our world without Christ and Christmas. To do this you will have to set aside time and deliberately and deeply think about the implications of a Christ-less world.
I believe that the implications are dark and frightening. On an educational level our great universities on the east coast would be gone. They began as Christian Colleges and Universities. The Midwest would not have Notre Dame. England would be left without Cambridge and Oxford. The wonders of art and literature would be bereft of such works from DaVinci, Michelangelo, Rembrandt, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and on and on.
Medical care would be set back hundreds of years. Many major hospitals would vanish. Death would become commonplace and disease could have indeed leave many parts of Africa, India and Asia devastated. The implications on the social scale are catastrophic.
The implications on a personal basis are dark and frightening. As prevalent as evil and hatred is today, without Christ, barbarism would control and personal freedoms would only come to the powerful. So, this Christmas please, "Ponder Christmas" and what it really means to this world.
Gabriel appears to Mary and announces to her that she will be with child and the impregnating power and source will be God. She will remain a virgin and still be pregnant and bring forth a child who will be the Son of God. Luke tells us that, "Mary pondered all this in her heart." She must have been a unique and devout young lady. Gabriel called her, "Highly Favored One." How does a very young woman ponder such incredible information?
The second time we find Mary pondering the incarnation is when the shepherds came from the fields and told Mary and Joseph what they witnessed. Now, nine months after Gabriel's first visit Mary is in deep thought about her child. Does Mary have any real understanding of the implications of bringing forth the Christ of God? Would she know of the Old Testament psalm that teaches that her Son is the Creative power that filled the universe?
We will probably never know what filled Mary's heart in that period of time. But, let's try placing our mind and heart in the position of pondering Christmas as if it never took place. I challenge those who read these words to find time in the busy days ahead and "ponder" our world without Christ and Christmas. To do this you will have to set aside time and deliberately and deeply think about the implications of a Christ-less world.
I believe that the implications are dark and frightening. On an educational level our great universities on the east coast would be gone. They began as Christian Colleges and Universities. The Midwest would not have Notre Dame. England would be left without Cambridge and Oxford. The wonders of art and literature would be bereft of such works from DaVinci, Michelangelo, Rembrandt, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and on and on.
Medical care would be set back hundreds of years. Many major hospitals would vanish. Death would become commonplace and disease could have indeed leave many parts of Africa, India and Asia devastated. The implications on the social scale are catastrophic.
The implications on a personal basis are dark and frightening. As prevalent as evil and hatred is today, without Christ, barbarism would control and personal freedoms would only come to the powerful. So, this Christmas please, "Ponder Christmas" and what it really means to this world.
Monday, December 7, 2015
Dad- The Real Santa Claus
I remember the time the real truth about Santa hit me. And, I say, hit me, for a very good reason. It was a childhood revelation with a gigantic impact. Indulge me a moment to explain. A few days before Christmas Santa always showed up at the American Legion in Riverview. Why would Santa come to the legion? I didn't know and as a kid I didn't really care. I was just happy that he came. So, every Christmas the Galloway kids went to the Legion Christmas party. There was an endless supply of soda pop and little bags of chips. We all knew that a big moment was going to come, we just didn't know exactly when.
With a huge belly laugh Ole Saint Nick would announce his arrival. Somehow he appeared, almost out of nowhere. All of us kids would laugh and giggle and scurry around trying to get close. A really big chair was waiting for the jolly gift giver, up near the Christmas tree. With almost continuous belly laughs he would sit down and us kids would scurry into a line. No cuts in line were allowed, nor even thought of, Santa would certainly see such a serious naughty.
One by one all of the waiting kids would get up on Santa's lap and the most serious question in the entire universe would be asked; Have you been good for your mom and dad? I don't know about any of my friends, but I always answered yes. Deep inside I was hoping Santa wasn't God, and knew all of the things I did wrong. Like, tell my brother, Tim, he was going to hell for killing my frog. I did pay for that sin with a well placed bar of soap, coming from my mother. I guess he wasn't God because Christmas morning I was always happy.
Talk about having ants in your pants, waiting in line was as bad a waiting to get the winter dose of Cod Liver Oil, also distributed by my mom. When it was finally my turn I got up on Santa's lap and after a couple of belly laughs he asked the all important question. My rather sheepish yes brought another belly laugh. And then it happened, the revelation of all time. My dad was the Real Santa, I could tell. It wasn't his laugh or anything like that, it was the ring on his finger. I recognized the ring. Wow, what a secret I was now carrying around in my adolescent brain. My dad, the Real Santa. No other kid in the universe could say that. But, for a while I would have to keep the secret.
Many years later I had the opportunity to be the Real Santa. We were living in Niles and my good friend, Larry Clymer, wasn't able to visit the kids like he always did for the Optimist Christmas party. I agreed to attempt to fill the role. The first problem was the outfit. Larry was about 5'8" and I was 6'4". Well with some elf magic the suit fit. the next problem was the Ho, Ho, Ho and the deep belly laugh. I didn't know if I could pull that one off. I practiced the laugh and the all too familiar, Ho Ho.
Just before my entrance to the waiting children I was in the bathroom, one last practice and out the door. As I reached for the door it opened, a very small hand from the other side had given it a tug. Much to my surprise, and I'm sure to his, I was standing in front of the son of the district court judge. Little John was in the first grade. His dark brown eyes seemed to glow as he looked at me. Santa, Santa, are you the real Santa? With a perfect belly laugh and a much practiced Ho, Ho, Ho, I told him I was and in fact that I knew his name and his dad.
The story is true and a short time later little John was killed in a tragic accident. I cherish the memory of being the real Santa for a bright eyed little boy that Christmas. I hope and pray that his dad and family continue to remember his bright smile and awe filled eyes.
What about you? What do people see in you? I'm not talking about the real Santa. I'm talking about the real Jesus Christ. The real Saint Nicholas was always about the real Jesus. That is why he gave and lived, so others would see Christ in him. May our Christmas gift to the world be, Christ alive in us.
With a huge belly laugh Ole Saint Nick would announce his arrival. Somehow he appeared, almost out of nowhere. All of us kids would laugh and giggle and scurry around trying to get close. A really big chair was waiting for the jolly gift giver, up near the Christmas tree. With almost continuous belly laughs he would sit down and us kids would scurry into a line. No cuts in line were allowed, nor even thought of, Santa would certainly see such a serious naughty.
One by one all of the waiting kids would get up on Santa's lap and the most serious question in the entire universe would be asked; Have you been good for your mom and dad? I don't know about any of my friends, but I always answered yes. Deep inside I was hoping Santa wasn't God, and knew all of the things I did wrong. Like, tell my brother, Tim, he was going to hell for killing my frog. I did pay for that sin with a well placed bar of soap, coming from my mother. I guess he wasn't God because Christmas morning I was always happy.
Talk about having ants in your pants, waiting in line was as bad a waiting to get the winter dose of Cod Liver Oil, also distributed by my mom. When it was finally my turn I got up on Santa's lap and after a couple of belly laughs he asked the all important question. My rather sheepish yes brought another belly laugh. And then it happened, the revelation of all time. My dad was the Real Santa, I could tell. It wasn't his laugh or anything like that, it was the ring on his finger. I recognized the ring. Wow, what a secret I was now carrying around in my adolescent brain. My dad, the Real Santa. No other kid in the universe could say that. But, for a while I would have to keep the secret.
Many years later I had the opportunity to be the Real Santa. We were living in Niles and my good friend, Larry Clymer, wasn't able to visit the kids like he always did for the Optimist Christmas party. I agreed to attempt to fill the role. The first problem was the outfit. Larry was about 5'8" and I was 6'4". Well with some elf magic the suit fit. the next problem was the Ho, Ho, Ho and the deep belly laugh. I didn't know if I could pull that one off. I practiced the laugh and the all too familiar, Ho Ho.
Just before my entrance to the waiting children I was in the bathroom, one last practice and out the door. As I reached for the door it opened, a very small hand from the other side had given it a tug. Much to my surprise, and I'm sure to his, I was standing in front of the son of the district court judge. Little John was in the first grade. His dark brown eyes seemed to glow as he looked at me. Santa, Santa, are you the real Santa? With a perfect belly laugh and a much practiced Ho, Ho, Ho, I told him I was and in fact that I knew his name and his dad.
The story is true and a short time later little John was killed in a tragic accident. I cherish the memory of being the real Santa for a bright eyed little boy that Christmas. I hope and pray that his dad and family continue to remember his bright smile and awe filled eyes.
What about you? What do people see in you? I'm not talking about the real Santa. I'm talking about the real Jesus Christ. The real Saint Nicholas was always about the real Jesus. That is why he gave and lived, so others would see Christ in him. May our Christmas gift to the world be, Christ alive in us.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Creation is Still
At the first Advent creation stands still, from the deepest edge of space, to the tiny blade of grass next to the manger, there is stillness. That stillness is but a sign of the deepest reverence possible. For a moment in time the created world bows, every element within everything material knows the world is going to change. In a way no man could understand, the created world knows their Creator has taken on human form.
The Bible is pretty clear in stating that even the created world has been cheated and disfigured by the fall of man. The earth was cursed and yielded her fruit only after hard labor. The book of Romans puts forth that the created world groans and waits in expectation, like a birthing mother. When the world is finally set right by the coming Kingdom Of God even creation will enjoy her original glory. I wonder how much more glorious the heavens can become. But they will become even more glorious.
The First Advent has meaning for every person who will have a place in their heart for the Christ child. For those who seek Him will find Him, those who long for Him will find fulfilment. He tells us that He stands at the door and knocks and if we allow Him entrance into our lives He will give us life like never before. His life, at the first advent, is His gift to us.
The Second Advent will have meaning for all of creation, for that is when the kingdom will come and creation enjoy her new glory. The Second Advent is also the time all humanity, followers of Jesus and non-followers, will bend their knees and acknowledgement of the Christ will pour forth from their mouths. Governments will collapse as the kingdom will reign. Kings, presidents and dictators will fall on their knees in recognition of the Supreme King of all time and space.
Today our world is filled with violence. Innocent people die at the desire of evil. In the name of some warped and twisted design of god people are slaughtered. When the Prince of Peace comes every false image, thought, desire, ideology, will be displayed for what it really is; a satanic attempt to steal glory from Jesus Christ.
Let His Kingdom Come.
The Bible is pretty clear in stating that even the created world has been cheated and disfigured by the fall of man. The earth was cursed and yielded her fruit only after hard labor. The book of Romans puts forth that the created world groans and waits in expectation, like a birthing mother. When the world is finally set right by the coming Kingdom Of God even creation will enjoy her original glory. I wonder how much more glorious the heavens can become. But they will become even more glorious.
The First Advent has meaning for every person who will have a place in their heart for the Christ child. For those who seek Him will find Him, those who long for Him will find fulfilment. He tells us that He stands at the door and knocks and if we allow Him entrance into our lives He will give us life like never before. His life, at the first advent, is His gift to us.
The Second Advent will have meaning for all of creation, for that is when the kingdom will come and creation enjoy her new glory. The Second Advent is also the time all humanity, followers of Jesus and non-followers, will bend their knees and acknowledgement of the Christ will pour forth from their mouths. Governments will collapse as the kingdom will reign. Kings, presidents and dictators will fall on their knees in recognition of the Supreme King of all time and space.
Today our world is filled with violence. Innocent people die at the desire of evil. In the name of some warped and twisted design of god people are slaughtered. When the Prince of Peace comes every false image, thought, desire, ideology, will be displayed for what it really is; a satanic attempt to steal glory from Jesus Christ.
Let His Kingdom Come.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Dance of the Innocents
I closed my eyes as the gifted fingers of our pianist brought to life "Amy's Lullaby." With the world around me shut off I envisioned the lullaby. Jesus is standing on a hillside covered in a blanket of daisies. To his right the hillside slopes away and the flowers converge into a blanket of white, as bright as the purest snowfall. The daisies seem to be dancing as a gentle wind moves up the hillside. Up to his knees in the dancing and waving of the petals he is smiling. He is not grinning or cracking a little smile, like one who is trying to be restrained or respectful. He is smiling with his mouth open wide, for all the world to see.
As the breeze moves and the petals dance I am captivated by the sound of giggles and laughter. It is the laughter of children, the music of the soul, giggles and squeaks, and the beautiful blending of the glee of boys and girls. Up the hillside they come, some running, some skipping, some falling and tumbling in the field of dancing flowers. Jesus is standing there with his arms outstretched, with such a smile that he is expecting all of the children to jump into his arms.
As the children run and dance and skip their way up the hill they take no notice of the language, color or clothing of their partner in the dance. There is no language in laughter, for it is universal, there is no disdain of clothes for all are wearing the same white, white as bright as the snow, the same white that Jesus is standing in. Theirs are the colors of every nation and every tribe that has ever graced the earth.
As they dance and laugh I can sense that these precious children are the Innocents. Fragile and helpless sons and daughters of the land. Innocent ones taken from the earth, from the arms of their mothers and the sheltering strength of their fathers. Taken by the evil design of men. Taken by the greed and envy and lust of those whose hearts are consumed with the thirst of power and rule.
Many of the dancing Innocents move towards Jesus and I can tell by the purity of their smile that they are laughing and dancing by the grace of God, as their lungs never filled and their feet never felt the earth. I know as a certainty that these that are dancing the Dance of the Innocents are so happy to see Jesus and feel his embrace that they sense no wrong has been done and wish for the day that all mankind will join them in the Dance of the Innocents.
As the breeze moves and the petals dance I am captivated by the sound of giggles and laughter. It is the laughter of children, the music of the soul, giggles and squeaks, and the beautiful blending of the glee of boys and girls. Up the hillside they come, some running, some skipping, some falling and tumbling in the field of dancing flowers. Jesus is standing there with his arms outstretched, with such a smile that he is expecting all of the children to jump into his arms.
As the children run and dance and skip their way up the hill they take no notice of the language, color or clothing of their partner in the dance. There is no language in laughter, for it is universal, there is no disdain of clothes for all are wearing the same white, white as bright as the snow, the same white that Jesus is standing in. Theirs are the colors of every nation and every tribe that has ever graced the earth.
As they dance and laugh I can sense that these precious children are the Innocents. Fragile and helpless sons and daughters of the land. Innocent ones taken from the earth, from the arms of their mothers and the sheltering strength of their fathers. Taken by the evil design of men. Taken by the greed and envy and lust of those whose hearts are consumed with the thirst of power and rule.
Many of the dancing Innocents move towards Jesus and I can tell by the purity of their smile that they are laughing and dancing by the grace of God, as their lungs never filled and their feet never felt the earth. I know as a certainty that these that are dancing the Dance of the Innocents are so happy to see Jesus and feel his embrace that they sense no wrong has been done and wish for the day that all mankind will join them in the Dance of the Innocents.
Monday, November 23, 2015
A tribute to Tanner, Alexander, and Andrew Skelton
It has been five years since the boys disappeared. The emotional toll on a family is beyond comprehension. The toll on the small town of Morenci will continue, even after the boys are brought home.
The clear single notes of the piano had me whispering the words to, " Silent Night." The candles on the altar table represented Jesus and our missing boys. A blue candle for each of the birthdays the boys celebrated. Five candles for Tanner, seven candles for Alexander and nine candles for their big brother, Andrew. In the darkened sanctuary the soft glow of the candles was a gentle yet gradually overpowering image of the love held in the hearts of every parent gathered to pray.
I read a Psalm that spoke of stillness and waiting on God. Words of hope that we know and acknowledge that He is the giver of peace and comfort. So many questions fill my mind and trouble my spirit. It has been almost four days, how could the boys survive the elements if they are out in the cold? Why would any parent leave their children with a person who is almost unknown? And unthinkable is the question of suicide; leave your boys with a stranger because you don't want them to witness you hang yourself. I had to get the questions and haunting thoughts out of my mind.
As I led the gathering in prayer it was a time of acknowledging the plan of God. His plan, to bring us together as family, the wonder of love and children. In times of pain and loss how we come together as community. We unite together to bring encouragement, love, support and that as community the bond goes deeper than words. And we were united in one purpose; to pray, find a sense of comfort, and demonstrate to the family support.
One by one every person came to the altar table and held their candle into the life-candle of one of our boys. The process took almost twenty minutes and I watched as members of the media and law enforcement held a candle of hope. At the conclusion of the service silence kept us in our seats and looking at the altar. It was as if leaving the service was leaving Tanner, Alexander and Andrew.
This Thanksgiving please remember the Skelton boys in prayer and their mother Tanya.
The clear single notes of the piano had me whispering the words to, " Silent Night." The candles on the altar table represented Jesus and our missing boys. A blue candle for each of the birthdays the boys celebrated. Five candles for Tanner, seven candles for Alexander and nine candles for their big brother, Andrew. In the darkened sanctuary the soft glow of the candles was a gentle yet gradually overpowering image of the love held in the hearts of every parent gathered to pray.
I read a Psalm that spoke of stillness and waiting on God. Words of hope that we know and acknowledge that He is the giver of peace and comfort. So many questions fill my mind and trouble my spirit. It has been almost four days, how could the boys survive the elements if they are out in the cold? Why would any parent leave their children with a person who is almost unknown? And unthinkable is the question of suicide; leave your boys with a stranger because you don't want them to witness you hang yourself. I had to get the questions and haunting thoughts out of my mind.
As I led the gathering in prayer it was a time of acknowledging the plan of God. His plan, to bring us together as family, the wonder of love and children. In times of pain and loss how we come together as community. We unite together to bring encouragement, love, support and that as community the bond goes deeper than words. And we were united in one purpose; to pray, find a sense of comfort, and demonstrate to the family support.
One by one every person came to the altar table and held their candle into the life-candle of one of our boys. The process took almost twenty minutes and I watched as members of the media and law enforcement held a candle of hope. At the conclusion of the service silence kept us in our seats and looking at the altar. It was as if leaving the service was leaving Tanner, Alexander and Andrew.
This Thanksgiving please remember the Skelton boys in prayer and their mother Tanya.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Aboard the Mayflower- Determined Faith
Aboard the Mayflower- Determined Faith
By the spring and summer of the first year about half of the Pilgrims had died. Many parents had buried their children and death had claimed a life from almost every family. The food supplies had barely lasted through the winter. As I think about the Pilgrims, what was it that enabled those people to endure such harsh conditions? There are a lot of things to think about when I consider the entire time of preparation and the voyage.
Consider the sister ship, the Speedwell. Twice she was delayed due to taking on water. This put the schedule weeks behind. Next, the cargo and some of the passengers from the Speedwell were put aboard the Mayflower, back in England. Some of the passengers did not continue on. What would inspire some to continue on when others quit? What factor did faith play in the individual decisions.
If the Mayflower had sailed on her original schedule she would have reached the colonial coast long before the Atlantic storms and bitter cold. Reaching the coast a storm forced the Mayflower to abandon the Hudson River landing and return to the safety of Cape Cod. The crew and leaders of the Pilgrims spent almost a month exploring the area for a place to begin building.
After a devastating winter, spring brought hope and their first real contact with the native peoples. What are the chances that the first real contact would be with an English speaking native? There are so many things that happened it would be hard to believe that all the circumstances were coincidental.
The personal and group theology of the Pilgrims was in fact a very pragmatic and strict Calvinist view. They were convinced that God in His sovereign design had all things planned and ordained. This faith gave them great resolve and a determination that would enable them to endure great hardship and heartache.
The time of Thanksgiving had more to do with spiritual certainties than with temporal blessings such as food and shelter. Moms and dads knew they would be reunited with children, children knew they would be reunited with a mom or dad. That inner knowledge was the real reason for the season.
Happenstance or the Divine Hand of God. I know who and what I believe.
Consider the sister ship, the Speedwell. Twice she was delayed due to taking on water. This put the schedule weeks behind. Next, the cargo and some of the passengers from the Speedwell were put aboard the Mayflower, back in England. Some of the passengers did not continue on. What would inspire some to continue on when others quit? What factor did faith play in the individual decisions.
If the Mayflower had sailed on her original schedule she would have reached the colonial coast long before the Atlantic storms and bitter cold. Reaching the coast a storm forced the Mayflower to abandon the Hudson River landing and return to the safety of Cape Cod. The crew and leaders of the Pilgrims spent almost a month exploring the area for a place to begin building.
After a devastating winter, spring brought hope and their first real contact with the native peoples. What are the chances that the first real contact would be with an English speaking native? There are so many things that happened it would be hard to believe that all the circumstances were coincidental.
The personal and group theology of the Pilgrims was in fact a very pragmatic and strict Calvinist view. They were convinced that God in His sovereign design had all things planned and ordained. This faith gave them great resolve and a determination that would enable them to endure great hardship and heartache.
The time of Thanksgiving had more to do with spiritual certainties than with temporal blessings such as food and shelter. Moms and dads knew they would be reunited with children, children knew they would be reunited with a mom or dad. That inner knowledge was the real reason for the season.
Happenstance or the Divine Hand of God. I know who and what I believe.
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Mayflower is Off Course- or is She?
After sixty six days at sea the Mayflower and her weary and cold travelers were looking at their new world. Due to the weather the Mayflower was off her course and instead of dropping anchor near the mouth of the Hudson River, she was north near the entrance to the bay of Cape Cod. The crew and passengers decided to sail south to the mouth of the Hudson.
Sailing south the ship encountered such a violent storm that both crew and passengers feared shipwreck and almost certain death in the cold Atlantic. In desperation the Mayflower came about and headed back north to the relative safety of the harbor of Cape Cod. Still damaged the ship made it to the bay and dropped anchor. The bay, almost an enclosed refuge, would become home to the Mayflower and the staging point of the Pilgrims exploration of the area.
For the next weeks the crew and a small number of the Pilgrims made numerous landings along the shore. The search for water was rewarded with the, "sweetest pools of water ever imagined." Juniper wood was gathered and taken aboard the Mayflower. The aroma from the burning conifer was a sweet relief from the stench of five months under sail. The crew also was able to re-supply the wood for cooking and cleaning.
After a time of exploring a site was chosen for the beginning of the settlement. It was defensible against any attack and within an easy distance of good water. On December 23, the majority of the Pilgrims left the ship and began building their new lives. As Sunday was the 24th the Pilgrims didn't work but spent their first Sunday in worship and praise. Work began in earnest the following day. As Separatist, Pilgrims did not celebrate Christmas day as they thought it to be a "pagan tradition."
During the construction of the meeting house and various homes many of the Pilgrims continued to sleep aboard the Mayflower. The frigid wind off of the Atlantic forced the settlers to build as fast as possible. This meant that the days were long and the blowing winds and snow would begin to take a very deadly toll.
Sailing south the ship encountered such a violent storm that both crew and passengers feared shipwreck and almost certain death in the cold Atlantic. In desperation the Mayflower came about and headed back north to the relative safety of the harbor of Cape Cod. Still damaged the ship made it to the bay and dropped anchor. The bay, almost an enclosed refuge, would become home to the Mayflower and the staging point of the Pilgrims exploration of the area.
For the next weeks the crew and a small number of the Pilgrims made numerous landings along the shore. The search for water was rewarded with the, "sweetest pools of water ever imagined." Juniper wood was gathered and taken aboard the Mayflower. The aroma from the burning conifer was a sweet relief from the stench of five months under sail. The crew also was able to re-supply the wood for cooking and cleaning.
After a time of exploring a site was chosen for the beginning of the settlement. It was defensible against any attack and within an easy distance of good water. On December 23, the majority of the Pilgrims left the ship and began building their new lives. As Sunday was the 24th the Pilgrims didn't work but spent their first Sunday in worship and praise. Work began in earnest the following day. As Separatist, Pilgrims did not celebrate Christmas day as they thought it to be a "pagan tradition."
During the construction of the meeting house and various homes many of the Pilgrims continued to sleep aboard the Mayflower. The frigid wind off of the Atlantic forced the settlers to build as fast as possible. This meant that the days were long and the blowing winds and snow would begin to take a very deadly toll.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Genocide- Not
I am going to continue to post the series on Thanksgiving that I wrote some time back but, I must respond to some stuff about the holiday.
First- The early settlers did not commit genocide against the native people. Merriam-Webster defines genocide as, the deliberate killing of people who belong to a particular racial, political, or cultural group. Those who sailed aboard the Mayflower had noble and pure intentions. They wanted a free land in which they could worship God according to their conscious.
Second- Disease was spread but not from those aboard the Mayflower. Smallpox and other disease were constantly spread across the globe. The black death killed one third of Europe. Smallpox was not intended to be used as an agent of death. So, even in the case of settlers later on spreading the disease it can not be considered genocide, the spread was not intended to kill the native people.
Third- Much of the current stuff that calls our settling the land genocide is pure politics. Why are so many people trying to demonize the American people and her history? Our history is not perfect and we did treat many people groups very abusive and criminal. But, not the original settlers. They came with the intention of finding freedom and free worship.
First- The early settlers did not commit genocide against the native people. Merriam-Webster defines genocide as, the deliberate killing of people who belong to a particular racial, political, or cultural group. Those who sailed aboard the Mayflower had noble and pure intentions. They wanted a free land in which they could worship God according to their conscious.
Second- Disease was spread but not from those aboard the Mayflower. Smallpox and other disease were constantly spread across the globe. The black death killed one third of Europe. Smallpox was not intended to be used as an agent of death. So, even in the case of settlers later on spreading the disease it can not be considered genocide, the spread was not intended to kill the native people.
Third- Much of the current stuff that calls our settling the land genocide is pure politics. Why are so many people trying to demonize the American people and her history? Our history is not perfect and we did treat many people groups very abusive and criminal. But, not the original settlers. They came with the intention of finding freedom and free worship.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Mayflower- Providence or Happenstance
Aboard the Mayflower-Providence or Happenstance
The ship's manifest listed one hundred and three passengers, one hundred and two by family name. The one hundred and third passenger was listed as, Dorothy, maidservant. In July of 1620 the Mayflower was being fitted and loaded with provisions for its journey to the New World. She was to wait in South Hampton for the ship Speedwell. The Speedwell had sailed to the Netherlands to pick up the passengers, who had been living in Leiden. Once the Speedwell met the Mayflower they would begin the long and dangerous voyage across the Atlantic. It was still nice sailing weather and the monstrous Atlantic should still be sleeping.
By the time the Speedwell did reach her rendezvous with the Mayflower they were already a week behind schedule. The Speedwell was taking on water and in need of repairs that lasted a week. On August the 5th both ships left the safety of the harbor and headed across the Atlantic. Both crews were hoping that even leaving in early August they would not face the horror of North Atlantic storms.
As both ships headed West the Speedwell began taking on water again. The Mayflower and the Speedwell were now three hundred miles out in the ocean. Both ships headed back for England and the port at Plymouth. Upon arriving in Plymouth it was determined that the repairs on the Speedwell would take to long and her cargo was added to the Mayflower. As disappointment and anger grew, many of the passengers on board the Speedwell abandoned their plans for a new life.
With the remaining passengers joining those on the Mayflower, she set sail on September 6th. By this the weather and the seas were not to be trusted, but the decision was made to sail on. For the first half of the voyage the wind and weather blessed the Mayflower and her crew and passengers. That was to end as the Lady passed the half way mark on the Captain's chart.
As the weather changed one Godless crewman told the Pilgrims that he couldn't wait for some of them to die, so he could throw them overboard and steal their provisions. For the next thirty days the Mayflower was at the mercy of the Monster of the deep. On more than one occasion the ship had to bring down her sail and ride out the storms. During an especially fearsome attack by the watery monster a mast cracked and the crew feared the ship to be lost. The ship's carpenter secured the mast till proper repairs could be done.
Some days before the sighting of land the "Godless crewman" became suddenly ill and died. The ship's log recorded his death as "The Hand of God." During the voyage a child was born and three days short of landfall a young lad died.
On November 9th in the Year of Our Lord, Sixteen Hundred and Twenty, land was sighted. The sixty six day journey across the Atlantic was done.
By the time the Speedwell did reach her rendezvous with the Mayflower they were already a week behind schedule. The Speedwell was taking on water and in need of repairs that lasted a week. On August the 5th both ships left the safety of the harbor and headed across the Atlantic. Both crews were hoping that even leaving in early August they would not face the horror of North Atlantic storms.
As both ships headed West the Speedwell began taking on water again. The Mayflower and the Speedwell were now three hundred miles out in the ocean. Both ships headed back for England and the port at Plymouth. Upon arriving in Plymouth it was determined that the repairs on the Speedwell would take to long and her cargo was added to the Mayflower. As disappointment and anger grew, many of the passengers on board the Speedwell abandoned their plans for a new life.
With the remaining passengers joining those on the Mayflower, she set sail on September 6th. By this the weather and the seas were not to be trusted, but the decision was made to sail on. For the first half of the voyage the wind and weather blessed the Mayflower and her crew and passengers. That was to end as the Lady passed the half way mark on the Captain's chart.
As the weather changed one Godless crewman told the Pilgrims that he couldn't wait for some of them to die, so he could throw them overboard and steal their provisions. For the next thirty days the Mayflower was at the mercy of the Monster of the deep. On more than one occasion the ship had to bring down her sail and ride out the storms. During an especially fearsome attack by the watery monster a mast cracked and the crew feared the ship to be lost. The ship's carpenter secured the mast till proper repairs could be done.
Some days before the sighting of land the "Godless crewman" became suddenly ill and died. The ship's log recorded his death as "The Hand of God." During the voyage a child was born and three days short of landfall a young lad died.
On November 9th in the Year of Our Lord, Sixteen Hundred and Twenty, land was sighted. The sixty six day journey across the Atlantic was done.
Friday, October 23, 2015
High Flight
This poem has been the most read piece that I have posted. High Flight used to be run when the major networks ended their television programming.
Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun split clouds and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of.
Wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence. Hovering there, I've chased the shouting wind along and flung my eager craft thru footless halls of air.
Up, Up the long delirious burning blue I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace where never Lark or even Eagle flew.
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod the high untrespassed sanctity of space. Put out my hand and touched the Face of God.
Pilot MaGee composed the poem beginning at thirty thousand feet and had it complete before he touched down. It was written on an envelope. He died later in a training accident.
Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun split clouds and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of.
Wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence. Hovering there, I've chased the shouting wind along and flung my eager craft thru footless halls of air.
Up, Up the long delirious burning blue I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace where never Lark or even Eagle flew.
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod the high untrespassed sanctity of space. Put out my hand and touched the Face of God.
Pilot MaGee composed the poem beginning at thirty thousand feet and had it complete before he touched down. It was written on an envelope. He died later in a training accident.
Friday, September 18, 2015
Debate
The Great Debate- An estimated 22 million viewers watched the latest debate featuring the Republican Party candidates for president. A few of the candidates had to break in to have much air time. And, with debates, air time is everything. Why show up if you are only going to get a one minute intro shot? A few of the candidates seemed to control the debate, through interruption or provocation. I picked my winner for that particular debate. My pick was based on substance and powerful word choice and delivery.
There will be many more debates and in fact most of us might get so bored we channel surf during a particular time when one bloviates. Some people love the sound of their own voice. This is a good warning to preachers. Now back to debates. How many important issues can really be discussed during a national debate? The candidates should spend hours on specific subjects. How about Iran? Iran is itching to transform the Dead Sea into the Glass Sea. The candidates should talk for hours about our economy and how the middle class is disappearing. It is too bad to say but, those topics will never be covered to the extent that they should. Why? Because it is not financially advantageous to the sponsoring network. So, we will be subjected to petty arguments and contorted facial expressions.
Some issues are never debated because of the importance of the outcome. Life and death decisions are rarely debated. I have never heard of or met parents debating in the E.R. over their injured child in need of life saving treatment. Life and death decisions seem to attack our brain and we understand instantly that what is taking place demands an immediate response.
When a four pound infant was placed in Donna's arms there was instant decision making taking place. First, the child would receive 100% of her attention and care, in spite of the doctors predictions. Second, Donna was going to expend every ounce of energy, regardless of time, to give the infant every opportunity to fight and survive. Third, should be first, Donna knew in her spirit that the infant was God's creation and must be treated as one. No debate, no discussion, just action.
When that infant survived there was no debate as to what might be the limit to the expenses involved. Special formula came from South Africa and was available at one location in Lusaka, hours away. When other infants died from unknown causes there was no debate in the need to bring the infant into our home.
When the four Galloway's held the child, understood God, admired the determination of her spirit, there was no debate in our decision to adopt her. Once the decision was confessed there was no debate as to what cost would be paid. And, the cost was not in dollars and cents. The cost would be in pain, prayer, and perseverance.
Tedd Galloway is the author of, A Mother's Heart Moved the Hand of God. The book is about the infant life spoken of in this article. More of the story at www.teddgalloway.com
There will be many more debates and in fact most of us might get so bored we channel surf during a particular time when one bloviates. Some people love the sound of their own voice. This is a good warning to preachers. Now back to debates. How many important issues can really be discussed during a national debate? The candidates should spend hours on specific subjects. How about Iran? Iran is itching to transform the Dead Sea into the Glass Sea. The candidates should talk for hours about our economy and how the middle class is disappearing. It is too bad to say but, those topics will never be covered to the extent that they should. Why? Because it is not financially advantageous to the sponsoring network. So, we will be subjected to petty arguments and contorted facial expressions.
Some issues are never debated because of the importance of the outcome. Life and death decisions are rarely debated. I have never heard of or met parents debating in the E.R. over their injured child in need of life saving treatment. Life and death decisions seem to attack our brain and we understand instantly that what is taking place demands an immediate response.
When a four pound infant was placed in Donna's arms there was instant decision making taking place. First, the child would receive 100% of her attention and care, in spite of the doctors predictions. Second, Donna was going to expend every ounce of energy, regardless of time, to give the infant every opportunity to fight and survive. Third, should be first, Donna knew in her spirit that the infant was God's creation and must be treated as one. No debate, no discussion, just action.
When that infant survived there was no debate as to what might be the limit to the expenses involved. Special formula came from South Africa and was available at one location in Lusaka, hours away. When other infants died from unknown causes there was no debate in the need to bring the infant into our home.
When the four Galloway's held the child, understood God, admired the determination of her spirit, there was no debate in our decision to adopt her. Once the decision was confessed there was no debate as to what cost would be paid. And, the cost was not in dollars and cents. The cost would be in pain, prayer, and perseverance.
Tedd Galloway is the author of, A Mother's Heart Moved the Hand of God. The book is about the infant life spoken of in this article. More of the story at www.teddgalloway.com
Monday, August 31, 2015
Influence Your World in Five Ways
Every person has a certain amount of influence in their world. Christians Can Influence Their World in Five Ways. First off this is not an exhaustive list of how we can influence the world for Christ. This is however a useful and thought provoking idea that can help us maximize our influence.
1. Pray- Seems obvious doesn't it. Every Christian prays, right? I'm not talking about the prayers that we have memorized or the prayers found in our Sunday bulletin. I'm talking about having genuine conversations with God. Conversations mean speaking and listening. If we want to influence our world we will start having blunt and honest conversations with our Father who loves us. Do you have children that are far from God and living in destructive environments. Cry out to God for their rescue. Plead with God for their return to His safety. Mean business with God because Satan means business with your loved one.
Pray for yourself. That is not being selfish. That is being smart. Pray for wisdom. Pray that God will enlighten your mind and spirit and you will know how to answer the questions that people have. The world around us is sick and tired of our Rosie and worn out church talk. Clichés like, pray about it, Jesus knows, Your child is an angel in heaven, God must have needed little... That might be fine in church but hurting and wounded people need more than platitudes.
Ask God Almighty to fill your heart and mind with words that refresh the weary world around you.
2. Live for your appointed purpose- God has gifted every Christian to accomplish His purposes. When each of us embraced the truth of Christ and His sacrificial death, resurrection and ascension we became new creatures quickened by His Spirit and made heirs with Christ. He empowered each of us with at least one spiritual gift. It is our responsibility to read scripture that reveals what these gifts are and then to discern our own. Once we understand our gift than that is a part of our appointed purpose in life.
I knew that I was gifted in preaching because God's presence confirmed it and other members of the body of Christ have confirmed it as well. It has however taken me longer to understand the deeper meaning of my appointed purpose. Today I know that my appointed purpose is not only behind the sacred desk, the pulpit, but behind the keyboard as well. My gift is in the communication of the message of Christ and His bringing all of creation into wholeness. The time is coming when I will no longer be able to stand and preach the beauties of Christ. But, I will have the appointed responsibility of writing and teaching those as long as I have breath.
You must find your appointed purpose and live for it and eventually die doing it.
3. Enjoy Living- I have known Christians that are allergic to fun and enjoyment. It is as if every morning they get up and eat lemons and stub their big toe on purpose. Theirs is a life of misery and endless sacrifice. Every Church has at least one person like this. My second church appointment had such a lemon eater. I came to the point of bargaining with God. I wanted to know if her mansion was done yet, and if not could the builders please hurry.
God has given us a beautiful and fantastic world to live in. Some need to open their eyes to the wonder of children playing in the park. The absolute joy of watching little children play with a puppy dog. Yes, there is evil in the world, but, there is a whole lot of love and happiness. Jesus told us that we would have abundant life and joy in this world. It is time to embrace the incoming waves from the lake and let pure clean water smack you in the face.
Find what gives you joy, discover what puts a grin on your face. Share laughter, it is contagious.
4. Open the Vault of Your Soul- When God transforms a person a treasure beyond any price is placed in the soul. It is the Love of God. God Himself witnesses to our spirit that He loves us and has accepted us into His eternal family. Such a gift must not be hidden in the heart. That truth must be allowed to have expression. The salvation of the soul should cause us to have a smile on our face and compassion in our heart. I'm not saying that everyday we walk around with some phony-bologna smile. But we can be genuine in sharing the love that God has placed in our hearts.
There are people all around us that are hurting and in need of compassion and understanding. The love of God in our hearts is the healing balm that many need. Many people that come across our path everyday have burdens that cripple them, weigh them down, put them into depression or despair. The heart filled with the love of God can be sensitive and discern when a friend needs to talk, a co-worker needs prayer, a family member struggles with their faith.
Decide to open your heart, be vulnerable, genuine, compassionate, understanding and LOVE.
5. Face your Fate- The bible is pretty plain in its message that all of us, unless the rapture comes first, are gonna die, buy the farm, push up roses, or daisies, or black eyed susies. What ever you want to call it, none of us is getting out of here alive. We are allowed a certain number of days and then it's over. What you do with your allotted minutes, hours, days, weeks, months will tell future generations a lot about you. How many years after you are gone will you just be a person that was a part of the family? Three or four generations at the most and then nobody will remember you. Unless, you pass on to others the eternal gifts that were given to you.
I believe that the value of oral tradition is all but lost. We do not pass on the great stories of our families and heritage. What a gift it would be to families if we took the time to write about our families and our faith journey. Thousands upon thousands of families would be able to hold the precious history of saints gone and their faith in Christ. Do something that will have an impact for generations to come. Write a family book. Put together a photo album with historical facts that can be held and touched.
You, my friend, are only gonna live here once. Do something with your life.
Tedd Galloway is the author of #2Amazon best seller, A Mother's Heart Moved the Hand of God and his novel, Encounter at River's Edge.
His website is www.teddgalloway.com
1. Pray- Seems obvious doesn't it. Every Christian prays, right? I'm not talking about the prayers that we have memorized or the prayers found in our Sunday bulletin. I'm talking about having genuine conversations with God. Conversations mean speaking and listening. If we want to influence our world we will start having blunt and honest conversations with our Father who loves us. Do you have children that are far from God and living in destructive environments. Cry out to God for their rescue. Plead with God for their return to His safety. Mean business with God because Satan means business with your loved one.
Pray for yourself. That is not being selfish. That is being smart. Pray for wisdom. Pray that God will enlighten your mind and spirit and you will know how to answer the questions that people have. The world around us is sick and tired of our Rosie and worn out church talk. Clichés like, pray about it, Jesus knows, Your child is an angel in heaven, God must have needed little... That might be fine in church but hurting and wounded people need more than platitudes.
Ask God Almighty to fill your heart and mind with words that refresh the weary world around you.
2. Live for your appointed purpose- God has gifted every Christian to accomplish His purposes. When each of us embraced the truth of Christ and His sacrificial death, resurrection and ascension we became new creatures quickened by His Spirit and made heirs with Christ. He empowered each of us with at least one spiritual gift. It is our responsibility to read scripture that reveals what these gifts are and then to discern our own. Once we understand our gift than that is a part of our appointed purpose in life.
I knew that I was gifted in preaching because God's presence confirmed it and other members of the body of Christ have confirmed it as well. It has however taken me longer to understand the deeper meaning of my appointed purpose. Today I know that my appointed purpose is not only behind the sacred desk, the pulpit, but behind the keyboard as well. My gift is in the communication of the message of Christ and His bringing all of creation into wholeness. The time is coming when I will no longer be able to stand and preach the beauties of Christ. But, I will have the appointed responsibility of writing and teaching those as long as I have breath.
You must find your appointed purpose and live for it and eventually die doing it.
3. Enjoy Living- I have known Christians that are allergic to fun and enjoyment. It is as if every morning they get up and eat lemons and stub their big toe on purpose. Theirs is a life of misery and endless sacrifice. Every Church has at least one person like this. My second church appointment had such a lemon eater. I came to the point of bargaining with God. I wanted to know if her mansion was done yet, and if not could the builders please hurry.
God has given us a beautiful and fantastic world to live in. Some need to open their eyes to the wonder of children playing in the park. The absolute joy of watching little children play with a puppy dog. Yes, there is evil in the world, but, there is a whole lot of love and happiness. Jesus told us that we would have abundant life and joy in this world. It is time to embrace the incoming waves from the lake and let pure clean water smack you in the face.
Find what gives you joy, discover what puts a grin on your face. Share laughter, it is contagious.
4. Open the Vault of Your Soul- When God transforms a person a treasure beyond any price is placed in the soul. It is the Love of God. God Himself witnesses to our spirit that He loves us and has accepted us into His eternal family. Such a gift must not be hidden in the heart. That truth must be allowed to have expression. The salvation of the soul should cause us to have a smile on our face and compassion in our heart. I'm not saying that everyday we walk around with some phony-bologna smile. But we can be genuine in sharing the love that God has placed in our hearts.
There are people all around us that are hurting and in need of compassion and understanding. The love of God in our hearts is the healing balm that many need. Many people that come across our path everyday have burdens that cripple them, weigh them down, put them into depression or despair. The heart filled with the love of God can be sensitive and discern when a friend needs to talk, a co-worker needs prayer, a family member struggles with their faith.
Decide to open your heart, be vulnerable, genuine, compassionate, understanding and LOVE.
5. Face your Fate- The bible is pretty plain in its message that all of us, unless the rapture comes first, are gonna die, buy the farm, push up roses, or daisies, or black eyed susies. What ever you want to call it, none of us is getting out of here alive. We are allowed a certain number of days and then it's over. What you do with your allotted minutes, hours, days, weeks, months will tell future generations a lot about you. How many years after you are gone will you just be a person that was a part of the family? Three or four generations at the most and then nobody will remember you. Unless, you pass on to others the eternal gifts that were given to you.
I believe that the value of oral tradition is all but lost. We do not pass on the great stories of our families and heritage. What a gift it would be to families if we took the time to write about our families and our faith journey. Thousands upon thousands of families would be able to hold the precious history of saints gone and their faith in Christ. Do something that will have an impact for generations to come. Write a family book. Put together a photo album with historical facts that can be held and touched.
You, my friend, are only gonna live here once. Do something with your life.
Tedd Galloway is the author of #2Amazon best seller, A Mother's Heart Moved the Hand of God and his novel, Encounter at River's Edge.
His website is www.teddgalloway.com
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Dance of the Innocents
Dance of the Innocents
I closed my eyes as the gifted fingers of our pianist brought to life "Amy's Lullaby." With the world around me shut off I envisioned the lullaby. Jesus is standing on a hillside covered in a blanket of daisies. To his right the hillside slopes away and the flowers converge into a blanket of white, as bright as the purest snowfall. The daisies seem to be dancing as a gentle wind moves up the hillside. Up to his knees in the dancing and waving of the petals he is smiling. He is not grinning or cracking a little smile, like one who is trying to be restrained or respectful. He is smiling with his mouth open wide, for all the world to see.
As the breeze moves and the petals dance I am captivated by the sound of giggles and laughter. It is the laughter of children, the music of the soul, giggles and squeaks, and the beautiful blending of the glee of boys and girls. Up the hillside they come, some running, some skipping, some falling and tumbling in the field of dancing flowers. Jesus is standing there with his arms outstretched, with such a smile that he is expecting all of the children to jump into his arms.
As the children run and dance and skip their way up the hill they take no notice of the language, color or clothing of their partner in the dance. There is no language in laughter, for it is universal, there is no disdain of clothes for all are wearing the same white, white as bright as the snow, the same white that Jesus is standing in. Theirs are the colors of every nation and every tribe that has ever graced the earth.
As they dance and laugh I can sense that these precious children are the Innocents. Fragile and helpless sons and daughters of the land. Innocent ones taken from the earth, from the arms of their mothers and the sheltering strength of their fathers by sickness and disease. Taken by the greed and envy and lust of those whose hearts are consumed with the thirst of power and rule.
Many of the dancing Innocents move towards Jesus and I can tell by the purity of their smile that they are laughing and dancing by the grace of God, as their lungs never filled and their feet never felt the earth. I know as a certainty that these that are dancing the Dance of the Innocents are so happy to see Jesus and feel his embrace that they sense no wrong has been done and wish for the day that all mankind will join them in the Dance of the Innocents.
As the breeze moves and the petals dance I am captivated by the sound of giggles and laughter. It is the laughter of children, the music of the soul, giggles and squeaks, and the beautiful blending of the glee of boys and girls. Up the hillside they come, some running, some skipping, some falling and tumbling in the field of dancing flowers. Jesus is standing there with his arms outstretched, with such a smile that he is expecting all of the children to jump into his arms.
As the children run and dance and skip their way up the hill they take no notice of the language, color or clothing of their partner in the dance. There is no language in laughter, for it is universal, there is no disdain of clothes for all are wearing the same white, white as bright as the snow, the same white that Jesus is standing in. Theirs are the colors of every nation and every tribe that has ever graced the earth.
As they dance and laugh I can sense that these precious children are the Innocents. Fragile and helpless sons and daughters of the land. Innocent ones taken from the earth, from the arms of their mothers and the sheltering strength of their fathers by sickness and disease. Taken by the greed and envy and lust of those whose hearts are consumed with the thirst of power and rule.
Many of the dancing Innocents move towards Jesus and I can tell by the purity of their smile that they are laughing and dancing by the grace of God, as their lungs never filled and their feet never felt the earth. I know as a certainty that these that are dancing the Dance of the Innocents are so happy to see Jesus and feel his embrace that they sense no wrong has been done and wish for the day that all mankind will join them in the Dance of the Innocents.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Jesus Christ- Lord or Lunatic
Lunacy or Lordship-Maniac or Messiah
To believe in Jesus as the Christ of God is to believe in his lunacy or lordship, that he is a maniac or the messiah. Jesus made no claim to be anything but, One with the Father, the Christ of God. His words can leave little doubt, "I and the Father are One."
Before looking into more detail about Jesus' self-identity with the Father, what did the people closest to him believe and voice? Let's back up a moment. What about a historical voice first. The Jewish historian, Josephus, places Jesus as a real man, with a recorded birth and life. Now, tradition and history paint a pretty clear picture of Jesus and His followers.
For close to three years a group of men and women followed Jesus from Nazareth. Some of the men who followed him later on became apostles. After a while some of his followers(disciples), left him. Those who stayed witnessed many events that could only be described as miracles. A very accurate account of the miracles, and other events, were recorded. One such record is from a doctor and historian, known as Luke. Three other men also recorded the events that surrounded the life of Jesus. As each man wrote through his own lenses and experience we have a very rich compilation of his life.
Now, after following Jesus on a daily basis, listening to him, watching him, even when there was no big crowd, his strengths and weaknesses would be evident. Because of this close and convincing life-evidence their belief and trust in him was strong and enduring.
At one time Jesus asked Peter what the crowds thought of him and who he was. Peter told Jesus what the crowds said. Jesus, then asked him, "Who do you say that I am?" To this Peter replied, "You are the Christ of God", to which Jesus again replied, "The truth you speak is not from man or the earth". It should seem evident that these men and women who followed Jesus, even to his death, were absolutely convinced that he was sent from God, the Jewish Messiah. Oh, they disagreed on the implications and goals of his Messiah ship. Their ego and understanding would give them problems until their character transformation took place on Pentecost.
We have the witness of men and women who confessed Jesus as the Christ. Tradition and some historical writings tell of their conviction and trust. The Apostle Peter was crucified by the Romans upside down. Phillip, the half-brother of Jesus, was beaten to death with a club and cast down from a wall. All of the original Apostles, except John, were executed for their faith. Such a fate they could have escaped by renouncing their trust in Jesus Christ. The Apostle John escaped the cauldron, to be banished to the island of Patmos. These, and countless more, faced death because Jesus Christ was, Real God.
Before looking into more detail about Jesus' self-identity with the Father, what did the people closest to him believe and voice? Let's back up a moment. What about a historical voice first. The Jewish historian, Josephus, places Jesus as a real man, with a recorded birth and life. Now, tradition and history paint a pretty clear picture of Jesus and His followers.
For close to three years a group of men and women followed Jesus from Nazareth. Some of the men who followed him later on became apostles. After a while some of his followers(disciples), left him. Those who stayed witnessed many events that could only be described as miracles. A very accurate account of the miracles, and other events, were recorded. One such record is from a doctor and historian, known as Luke. Three other men also recorded the events that surrounded the life of Jesus. As each man wrote through his own lenses and experience we have a very rich compilation of his life.
Now, after following Jesus on a daily basis, listening to him, watching him, even when there was no big crowd, his strengths and weaknesses would be evident. Because of this close and convincing life-evidence their belief and trust in him was strong and enduring.
At one time Jesus asked Peter what the crowds thought of him and who he was. Peter told Jesus what the crowds said. Jesus, then asked him, "Who do you say that I am?" To this Peter replied, "You are the Christ of God", to which Jesus again replied, "The truth you speak is not from man or the earth". It should seem evident that these men and women who followed Jesus, even to his death, were absolutely convinced that he was sent from God, the Jewish Messiah. Oh, they disagreed on the implications and goals of his Messiah ship. Their ego and understanding would give them problems until their character transformation took place on Pentecost.
We have the witness of men and women who confessed Jesus as the Christ. Tradition and some historical writings tell of their conviction and trust. The Apostle Peter was crucified by the Romans upside down. Phillip, the half-brother of Jesus, was beaten to death with a club and cast down from a wall. All of the original Apostles, except John, were executed for their faith. Such a fate they could have escaped by renouncing their trust in Jesus Christ. The Apostle John escaped the cauldron, to be banished to the island of Patmos. These, and countless more, faced death because Jesus Christ was, Real God.
Monday, August 10, 2015
How to Stay Positive
How
to stay positive in a negative world
I am sure that all of us have met folks that always
seemed to be very positive. They seemed to always be smiling. They always had
nice things to say and positive words of encouragement. Those dear people are
rather rare. On the opposite side of the fence are the folks that seem to live
on a diet of lemons and bitter roots. It is difficult for them to smile, it
might even hurt. To get a kind or encouraging word from them is near
impossible. They seem to thrive on negativity and discouragement.
I suppose that most of us seem to dwell somewhere in
the middle, depending on the day of the week and what side of the bed we got
out of. It is difficult for some of us to be positive when we are suffering
physical discomfort or pain. The same is true if we are suffering from a
depressed spirit, overcome by anxieties or anyone of a million stresses in
life. Trying to be positive in our world is tough.
How do we stay positive in the church? Well, we do
know the end of the story. One day the Lord Jesus Christ is going to establish
His kingdom. That is going to happen. He said it would take place and I for one
believe Him. The Christ Followers will reign for eternity and love and
righteousness will be the norm of the kingdom.
But, what about now?
How do we stay positive in the church when things aren’t going right?
How do we look on the bright side when people want to rain on our parade? Our
attitude is probably the single most important weapon that we have. With a bad
attitude I can criticize and destroy. I can pour cold water on every idea and
find fault with every plan. With a positive attitude I can find the best in
every person I deal with. I can encourage my friends that seem down.
How do I cultivate a positive attitude? The first
thing is to face the fact that at times I have a bad attitude. Once I do that I
can look for ways to cultivate a positive attitude. At this point I want to
draw our attention to words that always strike home, words from the Bible.
Eugene Peterson’s Message Bible has this advice
taken from the book of Philippians the fourth chapter. “Summing it all up,
friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your mind and meditating on things
true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious-the best, not the
worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put
into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do
that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into His most
excellent harmonies.”
I am responsible for my attitude. I can make
excuses, but that is all they are. I can blame other people, doesn’t change a
thing. I am the only one responsible for my attitude. How my attitude impacts
my family, friends and my church is huge. Build up, or tear down. Be a sour
puss or an encourager; it is entirely up to me.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Christian Crucifixion- Crucified with Christ
Christian Crucifixion I ended the last post with a question. It was this. What does Christian Crucifixion look like in everyday life? Past history would reveal the likes of Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Valentine, Saint Nicholas, Martin Luther, John Calvin, John and Charles Wesley, down to the near present Mother Theresa. All individuals who placed serving Christ as the highest goal ever known. The inner quality of selflessness would be their passionate driving force.
Selflessness is contradictory to American society in general. Media fills the minds of young and old alike that success means stuff. Success means the millions paid to celebrities, whether they be sports, entertainment, political, or media celebrities. Everybody wants to be successful. It is not healthy to want to be a loser.
Years ago the question was tossed about as to whether Jesus would wear a Rolex. I guess a few sincere people really questioned the idea of success and the stuff that equate with it. I thought the question was stupid for more than one reason. First off, Jesus would never need a watch. The days began and ended as he ordained and second, some fancy watch would make some of his words of no-effect.
There have been very success and rich individuals who have lived selfless lives. Stanley Kressge, J.C. Penney, and Letourneau made millions and gave most of it away. Being selfless does not mean living in poverty. Living the crucified Christian life does not mean only wearing clothes from a thrift store, driving around in a junker and buying day old bread. It means that serving God and humanity have a higher priority that obtaining the perishable trappings of the world.
For my own life I have learned that I will never be a business man. My mind and heart are not wired that way. I will never be a scientist in any field because that is not wear my heart is. I will always be a communicator of the, Power of God for the salvation of mankind. That communication takes place in two forms, I preach almost every Sunday and I write with the goal of representing Christ.
The path that Donna and I walk is difficult at times. Our minds are pulled into the arena of, ownership of stuff. We both drive older cars. We do not own a home to call our own and due to circumstances we will both work well past retirement age. It is the path we have chosen and God has led us down the road that is filled with hundreds of great people.
We will walk down this road until the Lord leads otherwise and then that one. I fight the Christian Crucifixion battle constantly, basically because I am still selfish. I suppose I will fight it until I die.
Selflessness is contradictory to American society in general. Media fills the minds of young and old alike that success means stuff. Success means the millions paid to celebrities, whether they be sports, entertainment, political, or media celebrities. Everybody wants to be successful. It is not healthy to want to be a loser.
Years ago the question was tossed about as to whether Jesus would wear a Rolex. I guess a few sincere people really questioned the idea of success and the stuff that equate with it. I thought the question was stupid for more than one reason. First off, Jesus would never need a watch. The days began and ended as he ordained and second, some fancy watch would make some of his words of no-effect.
There have been very success and rich individuals who have lived selfless lives. Stanley Kressge, J.C. Penney, and Letourneau made millions and gave most of it away. Being selfless does not mean living in poverty. Living the crucified Christian life does not mean only wearing clothes from a thrift store, driving around in a junker and buying day old bread. It means that serving God and humanity have a higher priority that obtaining the perishable trappings of the world.
For my own life I have learned that I will never be a business man. My mind and heart are not wired that way. I will never be a scientist in any field because that is not wear my heart is. I will always be a communicator of the, Power of God for the salvation of mankind. That communication takes place in two forms, I preach almost every Sunday and I write with the goal of representing Christ.
The path that Donna and I walk is difficult at times. Our minds are pulled into the arena of, ownership of stuff. We both drive older cars. We do not own a home to call our own and due to circumstances we will both work well past retirement age. It is the path we have chosen and God has led us down the road that is filled with hundreds of great people.
We will walk down this road until the Lord leads otherwise and then that one. I fight the Christian Crucifixion battle constantly, basically because I am still selfish. I suppose I will fight it until I die.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Christian Crucifixion
Christian Crucifixion - The combination of those two words is probably not a good way to begin this blog article. Some of you might even find it offensive that I would write about such a topic with all of the gruesome news coming from Iraq and Syria. Be patient with me as we get to the real point of this piece.
Most Christians have favorite verses in the Bible. Many people have memorized the 23rd Psalm. That single Psalm has brought more comfort to the suffering and grief stricken than might be calculable. John 3:16 stands out as one of the greatest verses that tries to describe how much God the Father cares for His children. The beatitudes contain some of the highest philosophical thought put into print. And, The Lord's Prayer is recited every Sunday the world over. There is little doubt that these verses, and many others, bring contentment, peace, security and a host of other inner messages.
But, the New Testament is filled with messages that cut to the quick. The very words of Jesus Christ can lay the human soul open and exposed. It is one of those statements from Christ that I want to dwell on for the rest of this piece.
In the gospel of Luke Jesus was talking with his friends and he asked them a question in regards to his own identity. He wanted to know, I suppose he already did because he is Jesus, who the common people thought he was. The answers back were quite remarkable. Some people thought he was Elijah, or one of the other Old Testament prophets. And then he asked them who they thought he was. Peter was quick to proclaim him as the Christ of God.
Just moments later he told them that if they really wanted to be a disciple there was a task that needed to be done each and every day. They had to kill themselves every morning. His words are hard and uncompromising, "Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me." Christian Crucifixion is the way of life for the disciples of Christ.
We like to play with words and so often we love to add or take away from what we do not like to read or hear. His words are plain and simple. If you, or I want to play around and throw out different interpretations that is fine and good. But, and it is a Big But, that will never change the truth found in these words of Christ.
The cross of the crucifixion always leads to death. The Romans made sure that every poor soul that was hung on the death tree died. The cross was never intended to teach the criminal a lesson so he would become a good citizen. The lesson would be for those who were the witnesses of the death.
Now, what does this have to do with me and you? I think it is pretty simple. We want enough of Jesus to keep us out of hell and move us towards heaven. For many people faith in Christ is little more than an insurance policy. If we get serious about Jesus and talk about Him, yes, using his name then people begin to think there might be something amiss in the cranial cavity.
What does Christian Crucifixion look like in everyday life?
More to follow. Please comment with thoughts, suggestions, arguments and clinical diagnosis's.
You can follow my blog on my website by using the blog link. www.teddgalloway.com
Most Christians have favorite verses in the Bible. Many people have memorized the 23rd Psalm. That single Psalm has brought more comfort to the suffering and grief stricken than might be calculable. John 3:16 stands out as one of the greatest verses that tries to describe how much God the Father cares for His children. The beatitudes contain some of the highest philosophical thought put into print. And, The Lord's Prayer is recited every Sunday the world over. There is little doubt that these verses, and many others, bring contentment, peace, security and a host of other inner messages.
But, the New Testament is filled with messages that cut to the quick. The very words of Jesus Christ can lay the human soul open and exposed. It is one of those statements from Christ that I want to dwell on for the rest of this piece.
In the gospel of Luke Jesus was talking with his friends and he asked them a question in regards to his own identity. He wanted to know, I suppose he already did because he is Jesus, who the common people thought he was. The answers back were quite remarkable. Some people thought he was Elijah, or one of the other Old Testament prophets. And then he asked them who they thought he was. Peter was quick to proclaim him as the Christ of God.
Just moments later he told them that if they really wanted to be a disciple there was a task that needed to be done each and every day. They had to kill themselves every morning. His words are hard and uncompromising, "Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me." Christian Crucifixion is the way of life for the disciples of Christ.
We like to play with words and so often we love to add or take away from what we do not like to read or hear. His words are plain and simple. If you, or I want to play around and throw out different interpretations that is fine and good. But, and it is a Big But, that will never change the truth found in these words of Christ.
The cross of the crucifixion always leads to death. The Romans made sure that every poor soul that was hung on the death tree died. The cross was never intended to teach the criminal a lesson so he would become a good citizen. The lesson would be for those who were the witnesses of the death.
Now, what does this have to do with me and you? I think it is pretty simple. We want enough of Jesus to keep us out of hell and move us towards heaven. For many people faith in Christ is little more than an insurance policy. If we get serious about Jesus and talk about Him, yes, using his name then people begin to think there might be something amiss in the cranial cavity.
What does Christian Crucifixion look like in everyday life?
More to follow. Please comment with thoughts, suggestions, arguments and clinical diagnosis's.
You can follow my blog on my website by using the blog link. www.teddgalloway.com
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Cancer
Cancer- The word strikes fear into the bravest of hearts. Commercials on television project faces and stories of innocent little children battling a disease that threatens to steal away their joy and future. Our hearts grow heavy over this word that befalls friends and neighbors. We can be left with questions that find no answers, images that haunt us, an empty vacuum that sucks out our hope.
Forty six years ago the demon of cancer first attacked my family. On a nice spring day in Riverview Michigan my oldest brother announced to my mom and dad his eventual sentence of death. He was a proud Marine and we were all so proud of him. During some type of congratulatory celebration Tag's friends punched him in the arm. Days later the hospital told him he had leukemia. Short months later he was laid to rest.
During the many years of ministry I have been at the bedside and graveside of many who have had to face the terror of cancer. For so many, vitality ebbs away and frailty emerges. Loved ones are left to face the pain and anguish of watching their precious loved one slowly leave them.
I have been fortunate to know many people who have faced the demon-disease and continue on in good health. They are the living witnesses of modern medicine and ever changing technology. They are alive because knowledge and science are working every day to find answers and cures. Their numbers are increasing and the answers and cures to many forms of cancer are arriving each day.
Today, my eldest sister Lynne suffers from stage four cancer within three of her vital organs. I have talked with her on the phone these past two mornings. This morning we talked and before a few minutes passed had cried together. She is confident of her relationship with Christ and she openly talked about that. She is not afraid of death and knows that she will not be alone. We will talk many more times and I will shed some more tears. But, I am confident that her place in the Kingdom of God is assured. That truth brings me peace and hope.
Disease and pestilence has always been a curse upon the earth. They sweep away the innocent as well as the vile and evil. I wish I could stop the innocent from suffering. I wish I could stop the children in the world from suffering starvation, disease, and war. But, I know that I can't. O, I can and must do my part in the fight against disease and starvation. But to stop it, I can't.
The day of Christ and His Kingdom is fast approaching this earth. When that day happens and the trumpet blasts through the entire universe cancer will disappear. Frail bodies will be instantly made whole. The weak will rise up in full strength. The helpless child will shout with joy and fill the world with laughter. May that day come quickly.
Forty six years ago the demon of cancer first attacked my family. On a nice spring day in Riverview Michigan my oldest brother announced to my mom and dad his eventual sentence of death. He was a proud Marine and we were all so proud of him. During some type of congratulatory celebration Tag's friends punched him in the arm. Days later the hospital told him he had leukemia. Short months later he was laid to rest.
During the many years of ministry I have been at the bedside and graveside of many who have had to face the terror of cancer. For so many, vitality ebbs away and frailty emerges. Loved ones are left to face the pain and anguish of watching their precious loved one slowly leave them.
I have been fortunate to know many people who have faced the demon-disease and continue on in good health. They are the living witnesses of modern medicine and ever changing technology. They are alive because knowledge and science are working every day to find answers and cures. Their numbers are increasing and the answers and cures to many forms of cancer are arriving each day.
Today, my eldest sister Lynne suffers from stage four cancer within three of her vital organs. I have talked with her on the phone these past two mornings. This morning we talked and before a few minutes passed had cried together. She is confident of her relationship with Christ and she openly talked about that. She is not afraid of death and knows that she will not be alone. We will talk many more times and I will shed some more tears. But, I am confident that her place in the Kingdom of God is assured. That truth brings me peace and hope.
Disease and pestilence has always been a curse upon the earth. They sweep away the innocent as well as the vile and evil. I wish I could stop the innocent from suffering. I wish I could stop the children in the world from suffering starvation, disease, and war. But, I know that I can't. O, I can and must do my part in the fight against disease and starvation. But to stop it, I can't.
The day of Christ and His Kingdom is fast approaching this earth. When that day happens and the trumpet blasts through the entire universe cancer will disappear. Frail bodies will be instantly made whole. The weak will rise up in full strength. The helpless child will shout with joy and fill the world with laughter. May that day come quickly.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Living Monuments Reach to the Heavens
Rain drops hang off long slender needles, made brilliant green by droplets no longer clinging to cloud.
The earth beneath the living statues is soft and covered in a blanket of brown needles.
Thousands, millions, the blanket has no pattern to the eye, to the giver they tell of history, of storms and snow, of wind and sun, passing days and months, years and generations.
The scent that rises from the moist blanket mingles with needles and bark that is living, the fragrance cannot be described, only experienced.
Breathe deeply and fill your soul with peace and tranquility as almost blinding rays of sunlight reach you through branch, limb and needle.
Steam seems to escape from hidden rooms beneath the blanket as the sun warms the earth below.
Lay your tired body down on the blanket, go ahead, multitudes of creatures have already felt the comfort.
The blanket is thick and soft, your hand presses down and the blanket gives to your desire.
Lay back and sense the blanket give and move to your weariness.
The scent, the warmth, the moisture, they approach and beckon to lay with you.
Soon you are wrapped in a comfort that fills your very soul, yea, every cell.
From your repose, looking up, the living statues reach into and then become part of the heavens.
Sleep overtakes and you dream of heaven, a land of pines, smells and sweet comfort.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Dance of the Innocents
I closed my eyes as the gifted fingers of our pianist brought to life "Amy's Lullaby." With the world around me shut off I envisioned the lullaby. Jesus is standing on a hillside covered in a blanket of daisies. To his right the hillside slopes away and the flowers converge into a blanket of white, as bright as the purest snowfall. The daisies seem to be dancing as a gentle wind moves up the hillside. Up to his knees in the dancing and waving of the petals he is smiling. He is not grinning or cracking a little smile, like one who is trying to be restrained or respectful. He is smiling with his mouth open wide, for all the world to see.
As the breeze moves and the petals dance I am captivated by the sound of giggles and laughter. It is the laughter of children, the music of the soul, giggles and squeaks, and the beautiful blending of the glee of boys and girls. Up the hillside they come, some running, some skipping, some falling and tumbling in the field of dancing flowers. Jesus is standing there with his arms outstretched, with such a smile that he is expecting all of the children to jump into his arms.
As the children run and dance and skip their way up the hill they take no notice of the language, color or clothing of their partner in the dance. There is no language in laughter, for it is universal, there is no disdain of clothes for all are wearing the same white, as bright as the snow, the same white that Jesus is standing in. Theirs are the colors of every nation and every tribe that has ever graced the earth.
As they dance and laugh I can sense that these precious children are the Innocents. Fragile and helpless sons and daughters of the land. Innocent ones taken from the earth, from the arms of their mothers and the sheltering strength of their fathers. Taken by the evil design of men. Taken by the greed and envy and lust of those whose hearts are consumed with the thirst of power and rule.
Many of the dancing Innocents move towards Jesus and I can tell by the purity of their smile that they are laughing and dancing by the grace of God, as their lungs never filled and their feet never felt the earth. I know as a certainty that these that are dancing the Dance of the Innocents are so happy to see Jesus and feel his embrace that they sense no wrong has been done and wish for the day that all mankind will join them in the Dance of the Innocents.
As the breeze moves and the petals dance I am captivated by the sound of giggles and laughter. It is the laughter of children, the music of the soul, giggles and squeaks, and the beautiful blending of the glee of boys and girls. Up the hillside they come, some running, some skipping, some falling and tumbling in the field of dancing flowers. Jesus is standing there with his arms outstretched, with such a smile that he is expecting all of the children to jump into his arms.
As the children run and dance and skip their way up the hill they take no notice of the language, color or clothing of their partner in the dance. There is no language in laughter, for it is universal, there is no disdain of clothes for all are wearing the same white, as bright as the snow, the same white that Jesus is standing in. Theirs are the colors of every nation and every tribe that has ever graced the earth.
As they dance and laugh I can sense that these precious children are the Innocents. Fragile and helpless sons and daughters of the land. Innocent ones taken from the earth, from the arms of their mothers and the sheltering strength of their fathers. Taken by the evil design of men. Taken by the greed and envy and lust of those whose hearts are consumed with the thirst of power and rule.
Many of the dancing Innocents move towards Jesus and I can tell by the purity of their smile that they are laughing and dancing by the grace of God, as their lungs never filled and their feet never felt the earth. I know as a certainty that these that are dancing the Dance of the Innocents are so happy to see Jesus and feel his embrace that they sense no wrong has been done and wish for the day that all mankind will join them in the Dance of the Innocents.
Monday, April 20, 2015
Tribute to Victors
Long did I clutch bottle and pill,
Friendship my aching soul to fill.
Such longing in my heart,
Their lie, mask playing a part.
I cried, I tried, to abandon their lies,
Their hold on me, a noose tied.
Free, Free, Why can't I be,
Of this hook, so deep in me.
Deep darkness, Despair, All I see,
Chained down, I want, Can't flee.
Death, Peace of death, Please cover me,
Earthen grave, My only plea.
Stretched out, Damp cold night,
Pain, Punishment, I sense is right.
In deep despair, My head hangs low,
Eyes, Tears, Capture a glow.
Hands reach to hold my chains,
Scars, History of cruelty, Pain.
Love, Compassion, Shine from his face,
Shackles, Links, Shattering, Falling in our embrace.
tg 2-21-2011
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Sweet Peace
Peace, sweet peace, flood o'er my soul,
My being, breathing,thinking, out of control.
Peace, sweet peace, come fill my mind,
I look, I search, I cry, still not to find.
Peace, sweet peace, capture my spirit,
Distractions, Illusions, fleeting and empty, never fill it.
Peace, sweet peace, Yes, Yes, in Him I find,
Arms open wide, His love is forever kind.
Peace, sweet peace, abiding in love I stay,
Holding, clutching, yearning is how I pray.
Peace, sweet peace, twill be eternal bliss,
In Jesus, my Lord, my God, never to miss.
A short thought on peace. Sunday morning service during piano prelude.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
The Eyes of Christ
It was the eyes of Christ, those magnificent eyes that-
Watched a blessed wedding celebration and made sure that the joy of the event would continue.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That looked upon a mass of humanity and recognized individual souls,
talking to them about life in His coming kingdom.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That looked into the heart of a great religious teacher and created a thirst for eternal life.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That looked past a life filled with failure and sin worthy of death,
and by His gaze and words her soul found freedom and a purpose
for living far greater than chains of this world.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That looked with powerful compassion on a man whose home was a field of bones and stones.
The man whose only friends were the fiends that haunted his every second, minute, hour.
That looked past the evil that was evident and focused on the soul
that was hidden by rag and ruin.
That watched and heard a powerful warrior begging the Great Healer to touch his daughter.
A warrior whose battle hardened soul was ready to die by the spear,
but trembled in fear over the thought of losing his own flesh and blood.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That watched as a man begged for food and searched for dignity in dust and dirt,
that some of that very dirt that reminded the blind of his plight was
transformed into a salve of sight.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That drew friends into an intimate fellowship where basin, bread and wine
would become instruments of grace and relationship.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That entreated three friends to help Him in His hour of need,
looking past their inability to be vigilant, knowing of their future.
It was the eyes of Christ-
That pierced the heart of a political puppet telling him that all power was
granted by the King of the Universe.
It is the eyes of Christ-
That recognize the man by the side of the road holding his sign,
"Will Work for Food" and is acquainted with pain and despair,
still knowing that he is a man of worth and eternal value.
It is the eyes of Christ-
That look into the hollow shell of the woman whose existence is propped
by the pill and the bottle, whispering to her soul that she can begin again
and with His grace her life will be vibrant and whole.
O, Let Us Have Those Magnificent Eyes of Christ.
Monday, March 23, 2015
Bittter Old Man
The old man is lying on a dirty old metal bed, sheets unchanged for weeks.
On his side with his knees drawn up, like he did 80 years ago.
The gray on his head is matched by the gray of his life.
He has been alone now for years, abandoned by all, left to his bed and bitterness.
Life is hard and that is exactly what he taught everybody around him.
His wife, stoop shouldered by the burdens and his words, crumbled under his care.
For years she tried to please him, her efforts only gained more scorn and weight on her shoulders.
Children now gone, haven't seen the old man in years.
His son, his namesake, pledged to never see or speak to him, never to enter the house until it was funeral time.
A daughter, broken by suspicion and cursing, still lives broken, trying to make her daddy happy, five or six times since she saw him last.
He knew they needed to know that the world is cruel and the best a man could do was to work all of his waking hours.
Home, he expected all to understand his life and be content that he put food on the table and a roof over their heads.
His words, never from a warm spirit, only the ones that needed to be said, the food is cold, the chores are undone, the wood needs carrin-in.
He expects respect and obedience, cares not to know what troubles live in his home.
All homes have trouble, life is hard and you just put up with it.
On his bed his hands are shriveled and gnarled, evidence of years of toil, toil he thought so unappreciated, work ignored, sweat unnoticed.
Unaware of the words of a mother to her children, words of work by their father, toil to provide food and shelter, long hard days spent on the end of a shovel.
He looks down at his hands and realizes his heart and soul is just as bent and gnarled as they are.
He mumbles in a voice no one can understand, words that seem garbled, "God what did I do wrong?" Life is hard and they had to learn, the world is cruel and unloving. I did what was best.
A message begins to move deep in his soul, he feels uncomfortable, tries to reposition himself on the hard rusted metal frame bed.
His stomach churns and his legs move to curb the pain.
A voice very clearly and quietly speaks it's message of unwelcome truth.
Today you are alone, alone on your bed, waiting to die, where are your children?
You are choking on the weeds you planted most of your life.
It is now time for you to realize what you have done, and live and die with it.
Even though you lie here abandoned and scared, yes I will be with you.
I will try and help them understand your life and keep them from your pain.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
A Sweet Return
Five generations together in a room, soon to experience a glimpse of eternity.
The saint of the family, the matriarch, is breathing her last air of confinement.
She has shared her heart, her life, and her last words with each.
Her white hair is a simple reflection of her soul, pure and unspoiled.
Her body bears the evidence of her years, yet her spirit bears the richness of life lived.
Life filled with children and chores, wonderment and worry.
Life full of images etched on every soul in that room.
Life of berry picking and shortcake, jumping grasshoppers and wild raspberries.
Children laughing and playing in the bathtub on a Saturday night,
in Sunday school the next morning, singing Jesus Loves Me This I Know For The Bible Tells Me So. Words sung a thousand times by the gathered in the room,
witnessed so many countless times by the life and love and sacrifice of the saint
soon to meet her God.
It is easy to notice her skin, thin as tissue paper, causes a hesitation to hug as firmly as deserved.
The scars are evident on her knees, of a trait passed on.
All mortal signs of life's days and years soon to be replaced by immortal
glory filled instruments of praise.
God's saint has been ready for this day for a long time, even yearning for its arrival.
As the months became years and frailty became reality, her spirit looked past the stars more and more, seeing the unseen.
For some around her now, life changed for a season.
A few short months of helping in the mundane requirements of everyday living.
Not work to be endured or a burden to bear, but an expression of love,
not ever to come close to filling up what was poured out for them.
Her breathing is very slow and shallow now, a sense of rest and contentment seems
to be filling the small room.
As she sleeps on her side, as she always did, her lungs are no longer filled
with the paltry air of the earth,
but with the celestial air of the heavens and her frail hand is held
by the One she so loved and longed to see.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Lenten Pain Leads to Peace
Thoughts and prayers for those caught in the noose. There is victory and life in Christ.
Long did I clutch bottle and pill,
Long did I clutch bottle and pill,
Friendship my aching soul to fill.
Such longing in my heart,
Their lie, mask playing a part.
I cried, I tried, to abandon their lies,
Their hold on me, a noose tied.
Free, Free, Why can't I be,
Of this hook, so deep in me.
Deep darkness, Despair, All I see,
Chained down, I want, Can't flee.
Death, Peace of death, Please cover me,
Earthen grave, My only plea.
Stretched out, Damp cold night,
Pain, Punishment, I sense is right.
In deep despair, My head hangs low,
Eyes, Tears, Capturing a glow.
Hands reach to hold my chains,
Scars, History of cruelty, Pain.
Love, Compassion, Shine from his face,
Shackles, Links, Shattering, Falling in our embrace.
tg 2-21-2011
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Scars on the Street
The scars on feet and hand,
Visible across the land.
Did people notice scars on His feet,
As He walked on the cold stone street?
As He raised His hands high
Did scars find one's searching eye?
Did His brow show signs of thorn,
A cruel crown this King had borne?
For now, He is cloaked in Light,
He did cry, It is over, I've won the fight.
Transformed from signs of hate,
Scars will embrace as we pass His gate.
The hatred of men, shown one day,
In His kingdom banished, forever away.
tg 4/12/12
1/21/16
1/21/16
Friday, February 13, 2015
A Purposed Death-# Sacrifice #Lent
A Purposed Death
A seed falls, earth embraces death,
Time passes, earth gives breath.
Seed lives, breaks free of earthly
mass
Sun, rain, time, generations pass.
Branch, leaf, reach sunward,
Root goes deep, strength to keep.
The axe falls, death comes,
The knife shapes, post becomes.
Sinners hang, blood flows,
God comes, Word grows.
Tide turns, world
spurns.
Sinless Word
suspended,
Heavens gaze is
ended.
Great I AM is blind,
His Logos unable to
find.
Purity runs down,
Puddles on the ground.
Post with open pore,
Absorbs sin so sore.
Scar of axe, knife,
Bring end of strife.
Post, thought dead,
now lives,
Upward, Sonward, life
to give.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Lifted Up- #Lent #Sacrifice
Feet Near The Earth, Crowned Brow To The Skies,
God's Arms Outstretched Mankind's Savior Dies.
On The Death Post and Beam,
His Precious Life Blood Does Gleam.
Three Iron Spikes Hold In Place,
Spotless Lamb, Now Dirty Sacrificial Face.
Voice, Whispering, Cracking, Groaning,
Pouring Out Life, For Sinners Atoning.
Parched Throat, Dry Lips, Mercy Please,
Cheap Wine On Hyssop, Creator They Tease.
Deep Into The Heavens Does He Gaze,
Searching, Praying Father, Nothing But Haze.
Completion Of Redemption, He Cries,
Wounded, Bruised Head, He Bows, He Dies.
Cold, Granite-Like Men, Face Death,
Watch, Remark, Christ Of God Gasps, Last Breath.
Now, Their Hearts Hard As Stone,
Strangely Moved, Even Their Sin Atoned.
For They Have Watched Countless Die,
Limp, Lifeless Bodies, Suspended High.
Men, Now Close To Post And Beam,
Ugly Truth Transformed To Beauties Gleam.
TG/3/1/2011
Monday, February 2, 2015
Lent- A Time to Think and Evaluate
Close, Come to His Cross,
The Scene, His Life, Seem as Dross.
I Will Cherish the Old Rugged Cross
The Wood, The Blood,
Attack my Soul Like a flood.
I Want to Flee,
In His Visage, it is Me.
I Will Cling to the Old Rugged Cross
He Hangs in My Place,
Clothed in Disgrace.
His Head Bowed Low,
From Brokeness, Life does Flow.
I Will Cherish the Old Rugged Cross
His Eyes, Upon Me Gaze,
My Tears, My Vision does Haze.
The Death Post, I Again Come Near,
For My Need I See Clear.
I Will Cling to the Old Rugged Cross
My Hands, Soul, do Grip His Feet,
Souls Rejoice! For Salvation Sweet.
The Post, The Beam, That Raised Him High,
Transport All Beyond the Sky.
tg/2-11-01
"I Will Cling- I Will Cherish" The Old Rugged Cross-George Benard
Blessings to All.
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